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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901763">October prompts: Clothes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetruenorth/pseuds/theonetruenorth'>theonetruenorth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October writing prompts 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Clothing kink - but not really, Flufftober, Getting Together, Hank has no chill, Just Connor in nice clothes kink, M/M, October prompts 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:07:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26901763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theonetruenorth/pseuds/theonetruenorth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe it was just a shock of seeing the android in normal clothes that made Hank’s stupid libido perk up and take notice. He wasn’t entirely sure. He was a grown-ass man but he was coming undone at the idea of his much, much younger partner wearing perfectly respectable clothes. Just the other day, the sight of Connor dressed in black jeans and light cream turtleneck made him nearly drop his coffee.</p><p>It had to <i>stop</i>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October writing prompts 2020 [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>October prompts: Clothes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Not beta-read. Not a native English speaker, so please don't mind possible grammar/spelling mistakes.</p><p>My first entry in the Detroit fandom. Be gentle with me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Hank asked as he handed over his credit card and Connor took it after only a moment of hesitation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s alright.” Connor said even as his LED lit up in bright yellow when he received a notification that his auto cab was waiting outside. “I think it’s something I need to do on my own.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yeah, yeah, I know,” Hank huffed, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Just don’t go to the supermarket, they have shit quality there. Go to a department store and take your time, okay?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I will.” Connor raised Hank’s card and gave it a little wave. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I get my paycheck.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Don’t worry about it. One shopping spree won’t break my bank.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That was how Connor found himself standing in front of a large clothing store that spanned over two floors of Detroit’s biggest shopping center. There was a funny feeling spreading through him - apprehension or nerves, maybe, but he was on a self-appointed mission he couldn't put off any longer.</p><p>As soon as the first laws were established post revolution, Connor had been legally hired at the precinct. That happened only a few days ago and almost immediately Connor was faced with a problem. He had no work-appropriate clothes. His Cyberlife uniform wouldn’t do any longer - not that he was particularly fond of it in the first place. Borrowing Hank’s clothes wasn’t a long-term solution and the older man told him straight away he should get some things of his own.</p><p>“Clothes can express your personality,” Hank had said. “Even if detectives have more freedom with it, you can’t really go wrong with business-casual. But that doesn’t mean it has to be boring. You just need to see what stands out to you, what you like. You have time to figure it out.”</p><p>Connor replayed that conversation in his mind, taking comfort in Hank’s reassurance. </p><p>With only a vague idea on how many things he should get, he spent some time browsing through different items, only to end up more and more confused as he went on. Fashion was such a… peculiar topic. There was no one way to do it, no guidelines he could follow, apart from the most basic things. Fashion changed with every season and <em> how </em>did humans keep up with it? There were some clothes that he liked, but were they appropriate for his workplace? Would he end up as a laughing stock? He could almost imagine Reed sneering at him and—</p><p>“You look like you could use some help.”</p><p>Connor made a small, involuntary sound of surprise as he turned around. He had been too absorbed with his thoughts to pay attention to his surroundings. He needed to do better. Deviancy was no reason for his awareness to decrease.</p><p>“Am I that obvious?” he asked and the shop assistant grinned at him, her eyes sparking with amusement. She was pretty short and somewhat thin, dressed in the same red dress all female staff wore. Her name tag said her name was Mary.</p><p>“You’ve been glaring at that shirt like it personally offended you,” she laughed. “Can I help?”</p><p>“I’m afraid I’m a little out of my depth here.” Connor sighed and put the shirt back on the rack. “I need to buy… well, the entire wardrobe, actually. But I never had to shop for clothes before, so…”</p><p>Her eyes shifted towards his LED for a moment and Connor braced himself for a possible confrontation. Not everyone was supportive of android emancipation, even if the revolution was peaceful and Markus did his best to earn sympathy from the majority of humans.</p><p>“Not a problem.” Her gaze didn’t linger on his LED and she quickly looked him in the eyes again. He felt himself relax a little. “Between you and me, I’m sure we can figure out what you need. Did anything catch your attention so far?”</p><p>It took a couple of hours before he paid his purchases (and tried not to cringe at the bill), so to thank Mary for her assistance, he bought her lunch. </p><p>“I really appreciate the help.” Connor smiled when she gave him thumbs up, unable to speak with her mouth full of the chicken caesar salad she ordered. “I think I have a better understanding of what to look out for, in the future.”</p><p>“It’s cool,” she said after she swallowed. She then paused for a moment and gave him one last assessing stare. “So, listen... androids can change their hair at will, right?”</p><p>“I can change its color and adjust length a little, yes. I would still have to style it myself, like humans do.” Connor replied, a little apprehensive. “Why? What’s wrong with my hair?”</p><p>“Nothing’s wrong,” she reassured him even as she dug out her phone from her bag, “but if you want a little variety I can show you some pictures of hairstyles that would look nice on you. Just so you’ll have options, you know?”</p><p>Connor didn’t have many friends. Only Hank qualified for that category so far. Markus and Simon were slowly getting there, but there was still awkwardness between them because of Connor’s status as deviant hunter. People at the precinct were colleagues, not friends - not yet, anyways. But after that day, Mary’s number found its way into his database and Connor was more than happy with the thought that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to call her a friend in the future.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Hank was in <em> hell</em>. </p><p>It had been three weeks since Connor’s shopping trip and Hank didn’t know what to do. His partner had paid him back after he got his first paycheck, that wasn’t a problem. The problem was, Connor looked… good. <em> Really </em> fucking good.</p><p>No, more than good. Hank knew that Connor was handsome - he was old, not blind, thank you very much. He was aware that Connor had been designed to be good-looking. It was a calculated tactic to make him more approachable, more human-like. There was an attraction he felt for the android from the very start and it only grew in time as they got to know each other. Now, two months after the revolution and finally working together as official partners, Hank was honest enough to admit that he had been checking out Connor’s ass as he crouched to grab some of the papers that spilled down from his desk.</p><p>It was because of the clothes, really. The grey suit Connor used to wear before fit him well but that was a part of his uniform and nothing special. It wasn’t made to make him stand out - quite the opposite, even. The new clothes, though...</p><p>Hank cursed quietly to himself under his breath. It wasn't even that the clothes were extravagant or showed too much skin or were too tight. No, they were well made and of good quality. Nothing too flashy. But the helpful assistant of whom Connor wouldn't shut up about after his shopping spree obviously had a good eye for sizes and styles, since she picked out clothes that fit Connor’s lean frame <em>perfectly</em>.</p><p>Black slacks and dress shirts in different colors, from regular blue to light pink, with assortment of ties to match. Slim-cut jeans and heavy-knit sweaters that made Connor look like he stepped down from the stage of autumn fashion collection. Cashmere v-neck pullovers and jackets. Deep forest-green peacoat that hugged his body in all the right places. Two cardigans - one gray and one light beige - that were the softest damn things Hank has ever touched in his life. Dress shoes and combat boots and a small collection of accessories, like belts and pockets squares, woolen scarves and leather gloves. Even a watch or two, despite Connor having no need for them.</p><p>Maybe it was just a shock of seeing the android in normal clothes that made Hank’s stupid libido perk up and take notice. He wasn’t entirely sure. He was a grown-ass man but he was coming undone at the idea of his much, much younger partner wearing perfectly respectable clothes. Just the other day, the sight of Connor dressed in black jeans and light cream turtleneck made him nearly drop his coffee.</p><p>It had to <em> stop</em>.</p><p>To make matters <em> worse</em>, Mary the shop assistant had shown Connor that his hair didn’t have to be slicked back all the time. No, much to Hank's despair, sometimes Connor let his hair unstyled, the impossibly-soft looking curls falling down his forehead.</p><p>Those fucking curls. </p><p>Hank wasn’t sure if he should hunt Mary down for sport or send her a fruit basket as thanks.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>His patience ran out one evening when they were at Hank’s place, having walked Sumo around the park. Connor lived not far from the precinct, in an apartment building now owned by Jericho and hosting all sorts of androids who needed a safe place to stay and figure out what to do next. But Connor was still a frequent guest at Hank’s and often insisted on walking Sumo, his fondness for the huge dog obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes.</p><p>Hank offered Connor a space in his home, but he had no spare bedroom and Connor would have to go to stasis on the couch in his living room. In the end, they decided it was better for Connor to have a place of his own. Hank wanted him to learn how to be independent and Connor agreed.</p><p>“You want something to drink?”</p><p>Hank made his way to the fridge as Connor took off Sumo’s leash. He took out a beer for himself - only one, since he was doing his best to cut down the amount of alcohol he drank on a daily basis - and showed Connor the thirium-based drink he bought the other day.</p><p>(The commerce section quickly caught up on the fact that sentient androids wouldn’t be going away. Android-friendly drinks and snacks were created insanely fast, perfect for consuming in social situations and fitting in with the humans.)</p><p>“Sure, why not.”</p><p>“Cold or warm?” Hank asked, knowing that the chilly weather outside bothered Connor, even if the android tried not to show it. Connor seemed to have a high dislike for snow and winter in general.</p><p>“Warm, if you don’t mind.” Connor smiled at him before turning his attention to Sumo, who demanded belly rubs. </p><p>Hank popped the seal off the bottle and put it in the microwave for a minute. Anything to stop him from ogling his partner and how unfairly attractive he looked. He wasn’t even wearing anything special - just dark blue jeans and white cable-knit wool cardigan with navy checkered shirt underneath. But the whole outfit made him look… soft. Warm. Safe. And his hair was curling again, tousled by the wind and Hank wanted just to hold him and keep him and never let him go.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>The microwave pinged and Connor was suddenly right there next to him and Hank passed him the bottle without even registering he was doing it. He watched, numbly, as Connor took a sip and his throat bobbed a little and Hank could feel his resolve to do right by Connor shattering into a hundred pieces. This was torture. He couldn’t do it anymore.</p><p>Hank looked up, gaze skimming past the slightly opened lips and witnessing the brief glimpse of tongue as Connor chased the remains of his drink from his lips. Then he looked even higher up and Connor’s eyes were on him, unmoving, assessing, probably running diagnostics on every single one of Hank’s vitals. But there was <em> something </em> in his eyes, some hidden mirth at seeing Hank squirm and suddenly it all became clear.</p><p>“You little shit,” Hank hissed, his own eyes narrowing, “you know perfectly well what you’re doing, don’t you?”</p><p>Connor set his drink next to Hank’s beer that still rested untouched on the kitchen counter</p><p>“I was beginning to wonder if I was doing this wrong,” Connor said. “My social protocols for these types of situations predicted you catching up a lot sooner.”</p><p>“Social protocols, huh? Did those protocols tell you just how bad this idea is?” He turned, so that they were now facing each other and took two steps forward, leaning into Connor’s personal space. “Did they tell you I’m not the type to be satisfied with just a taste? I always want more.”</p><p>Connor kept their eyes connected, even as the android raised his hand and rested it in the middle of Hanks’ chest, over his heart, his fingers stretching to brush against the skin starting at the neckline of his shirt.</p><p>“I do want more,” he eventually said and Hank’s heart skipped a beat. He wondered if Connor could feel it. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks.”</p><p>“Oh, you’ve had it, since the first day you showed up in those new clothes.” Hank reached up to brush Connor’s hair back from his forehead. It was impossibly soft to touch and he growled. “Christ, those fucking curls. It’s like you want to kill me.”</p><p>“Killing you is the furthest thing on my mind.”</p><p>“Could have fooled me. Have you seen your ass in those jeans?”</p><p>“I have.” Connor smiled. “Hank?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“I would like you to kiss me now.”</p><p>Connor shouldn’t be allowed to say shit like that.</p><p>Hank crashed their lips together and Connor responded beautifully, eager and enthusiastic, opening to him without hesitation. He was a little unsure, lacking experience, but it didn’t matter one bit. He all but melted against Hank’s body, wrapping his arms around Hank’s waist. Hank cradled Connor’s jaw in both hands as he crowded him against the kitchen counter, trapping him in place and allowing Hank to kiss the living daylight out of him.</p><p>Later, much later, after Hank's hair was ruffled and Connor’s lips were tender from kissing and they parted a little to catch their breaths, Hank finally came to a decision.</p><p>Mary was <em> definitely </em> getting a fruit basket.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>How does android hair really work in this universe, anyways?</p></blockquote></div></div>
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